AugNoWriMo
by Penn Flinn
Summary: 50,000 words. Ben versus Riley. Chaos will ensue. Chapter Three is up!
1. Books

**Summary: 50,000 words in a month. Ben versus Riley. Chaos will ensue.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Note: Hey, everyone! Long time, no see! Well, I'm finally back with another story (and it's not a one-shot this time). I started this in the months of August, and now it's into November. You know what that means—NaNoWriMo is going full speed ahead. Hopefully that means fast updates…**

**And thank you, everyone who reviewed my last story! And a special thanks goes to Califaction, once again, for awesome beta skills.**

Once again, Riley Poole was on his laptop.

Ben knew now to expect nothing less from his friend, but it still amazed him that the techie could stare nonstop at one screen for more than an hour at a time. Whenever Ben attempted it his eyes got all fuzzy and heavy, and he couldn't close them without a permanent imprint of the screen flashing before him. He wasn't a big fan of the Internet, anyway. He knew how to use it at its mostbasic he ever did on his own laptop was search the occasional topic on Google or watch snippets of the news.

But Riley couldn't be torn away from his own laptop. He was the only one who was allowed to touch it, and if anyone tried to do anything on itwithout his permission he'd scold them in a typical Riley fashion—usually just a slew of incomprehensible words that somehow translated to "Never do that again. I'm warning you."

On this particular day, the first day of August, Riley was busier than usual. His hands flew across the keys nonstop, pausing only for wrist-stretching breaks. His big blue eyes were focused on the screen, following whatever he was doing with an intense scrutiny. At times he would stop to click on something else, but he would be back to typing almost immediately. Ben watched him for a few minutes, but the unusual silence soon began to stretch on. With no comments from Riley, being in the same room with him was a little dull.

So Ben, after excusing himself from the room, made his way across the hall to the library. There was only one other time Riley had been this way: It had been two years ago, just a few months before their adventure in search of Cibola. Riley had spent months cooped up in his apartment, typing silently just like he was doing now. He'd rarely visited them, and during those times when he did, he always seemed as deep in thought as Riley could get.

It was during that time that Riley had been writing his book.

The library in Ben and Abigail's mansion wasn't the largest library he'd seen, but it _was _pretty big, he had to admit. There were bookcases on the two walls that faced each other, and at the end of the room, on the last wall, there was a wide window with a window bench that looked out on Abigail's garden. She was far from being a professionalgardener, but Ben liked to look at it, at least. The library was basically split down the middle; one half of it was Ben's half, the other was Abigail's. Ben's half tended to contain mostly nonfiction, biographies, and the like. He'd never really ventured into Abigail's half, and he didn't think he particularly wanted to, either. He could spot at least one colorful, pink-bound book on her shelves.

As he entered the library today, he bypassed both sections and went straight to the window bench on the back wall. He sat on the lightly cushioned seat and picked up the book that was lying facedown beside him. It seemed that Abigail had been reading it earlier. He turned the book over, and the cover that he had seen so many times glared back at him. The words seemed to glow, as if on fire: "The Templar Treasure, by Riley Poole."

He'd felt guilty many times over. It hadstarted when Riley had come to his doorstep all those months ago carrying a cartload of his books, and Ben hadn't even knownthat the book had been released yet. He'd tried to act normal, but the sight of the books finally in print made Ben's heart soar for his friend. It was all he could do not to leap upand shout "Congratulations!"

And, of course, there was the time when Riley's book hadcontained all of the information they needed about the President's Book. The look on his friend's face when he saw that Ben still had the book packaged was not one that Ben was likely to forget soon. He knew it would stay burned in his memory.

Everyone else had read the book: Ben's mom and dad, the local bookstore owner, the girl Riley had been so excited to meet, now Abigail. Even Sadusky had read it. Now Ben knew it was his turn. It wasironic that the techie's best friend turned out to be the last to read it.

And it became even more painfully ironic when Ben opened to the front page and saw the dedication.

_To Ben._

_You helped me out of my cubicle. I know I'll find something to help you with someday (even though it won't be _nearly_ as bad as my cubicle)._

_Also to Abby._

_I'm glad you got together with Ben. It was the best decision you've ever made._

Ben remembered, with a hint of a smile, that the book had come out just around the time that he and Abigail had broken up. He amused himself with picturing the look on Abby's face if she had read the dedication in that time, then quickly turned the page. However much he wanted to laugh, he didn't want to look at the two dedications anymore. They meant more to Ben than Riley could have guessed. He wasn't quite sure if Riley had intentionally put the double meaning in the last sentence of the dedication, but just reading it made the guilt return. Riley was such a dedicated friend; Ben was still amazed at how the techie could put an insult and a praise in the same sentence without missing a beat.

He flipped past the table of contents and the first page greeted him. It suddenly hit him. _This was the first page of his best friend's published book._ It had never really seemed that big before. Sure, Riley had written a book. But the word "published" had never meant so much before. Ben took another moment to savor this new realization, then began to read eagerly. He owed this to Riley.

Hours later, Ben placed a bookmark three-quarters of the way through the book and closed it, rubbing his eyes. Even reading a book made his eyes tired. Maybe what Riley said really was true. Maybe he was just getting to be an old man with bad eyesight.

Stretching, Ben crossed the floor into the living room again, expecting to find Abigail with the TV on. Instead, Riley still sat in his same chair, in the exact same position, still typing like a maniac.

"What are you even doing?" Ben asked in exasperation. "You need to do something other than stare at your computer and destroy your eyesight all day. No wonder you have glasses."

For the first time since Riley had opened his computer that morning, the techie looked up. His eyes were only slightly bloodshot. "For your information," he said, "I wear these glasses so I can see close up. And…" He pushed the glasses up farther on his nose by the bridge and turned back to his computer screen. "They make me feel very smart."

Ben leaned over the chair to look over Riley's shoulder, but Riley half-closed his laptop in annoyance. "What?" Ben said. "I was only trying to see what's been keeping you so fascinated all of today."

"You're one to talk," Riley scoffed. "You've been in that library for hours. Books are _boring_."

"It was your book, actually," Ben said dryly. There was an uncharacteristic silence from Riley, and Ben couldn't tell if he was mad that he couldn't come up with a comeback for that or if he was simply humbled that Ben had finally read his book.

"How'd you like it?" That was all he said, but those words conveyed hopefulness, caution, and a little desperation.

"I actually haven't finished it yet," Ben said. "But what I've read of it is fascinating. I didn't know you could write like that, Riley."

"You doubted my skills?" Ah. The old Riley had returned.

"Of course not!" Ben said. "I was just saying that…"

"Ben didn't think I could write," Riley sighed dramatically. "Well, guess what, Ben. I've figured out a new fun thing to do."

"What's that?" said Ben, though he already knew the answer.

"Write," Riley said bluntly. "And you know what's even better about it? There are all sorts of things that encourage you to write. Like this."

Riley opened up his laptop. A word document was displayed, but Riley quickly opened up the internet to hide it. Proudly, he pointed to the screen.

"Augno…what?" Ben said, squinting. Man, the hours of reading really had taken a toll on his eyes.

"Augnowrimo," Riley said matter-of-factly. "It's developed from Nanowrimo, but August, I found, is a much more manageable month than November."

"What is it?" Ben said, eyes scanning the page. "Some sort of writing community."

"It's more than a community, Ben," Riley said, awestruck. "It's a way of life."

"I'm guessing Augnowrimo stands for something?"

"August Novel Writing Month. You set a goal, and you try to write that many words in a month. 50,000 words is a popular goal. It's my goal, anyway," Riley said.

"So you're doing this to write your next book?"

Riley nodded vigorously. "Only this time it's going tobe more of a fiction book. Based on our Cibola fiasco, of course."

Ben thought about it for a moment. "50,000 words…that should be around seventy-five pages?"

"More like one hundred," Riley boasted. "It's a lot to do in a month."

"Oh yeah?" Ben said. The wheels in his mind were turning. "I bet it's easier than you make it out to be."

Riley's eyes widened behind his glasses. "You're not seriously…"

"Why don't I try it as well?" Ben confirmed Riley's suspicions. "I'll base mine on the hunt for the Templar Treasure."

Of course, Riley couldn't pass up a challenge, and Ben knew that. "How about this: If I get more words than you, you have to wash my Ferrari." He paused, clearly considering this. "No, scratch that. You'll probably ruin it if you do that. How about you have to sit with me through an ultimate Star Wars marathon?"

Ben groaned. "Fine. But if I get more words, you have to promise that you'll watch that Civil War Documentary with me. You know, the one you got me for my birthday."

If it was possible, Riley's groan was even louder. "Ben, that's got to be the most boring thing ever to walk the land of DVDs," he complained.

"You made your bet, I made mine," Ben said.

Riley rolled his eyes. "Fine, but you've just sealed your fate. There's no way I'm sitting through that movie."

"It's fair enough," Ben said. "But you have to start from the beginning. You've been writing all day. You can't count those words against me."

Once again, this warranted an eye roll from Riley. "Fine. Any other demands?"

"Get some sleep, will you?" Ben said, starting to walk out of the living room.

Riley smiled wickedly after him. "There is no such thing as sleep in the Writing Months."

Ben ignored him and closed the door to the living room, then began to make his way up the steps to find his old laptop. This whole thing would be easy enough. He had lived the adventure, after all.

He had no idea what he was getting himself into.

**Well, that was fun. I'm looking forward to where this will take me…it'll be fun. Reviews always help spark the imagination, also. If you can think of anything you'd like to see (challenges/dares, etc.) between Riley and Ben, let me know! Feedback is good.**

**And a little sneak peak at the next chapter...the chapter title will be "Ctrl+V." Use your imagination!**


	2. Ctrl V

**Hello again! Happy Thanksgiving! I hope November has treated you all fairly. Thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter—this is really exciting, writing a multi-chapter fic! This chapter definitely isn't the best, but trust me—they'll get better. Now, I'm off to go have some turkey dinner. Without further ado, Chapter Two. (Heh, it rhymes)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own it.**

_Ben_

Of course, the first thing Ben's mind did was exactly what he didn't want it to do: pull a blank. After his conversation with Riley, he'd headed straight to his computer, swiped off a thin layer of dust, and booted it up. After opening up a blank word document, he sat back and gazed at the blinking cursor, and the situation he'd landed himself in became as clear as that treasure map Abigail had given was he supposed to start? How was he supposed to end? How the _heck _was he supposed to beat Riley at this? Groaning, he rubbed his already-weary eyes.

_Riley_

Fingers? Cramped, but not too bad. Eyes? Tired, but not closed yet. Mind? Still functional. Riley didn't even stop his writing to go over this checklist in his mind. As long as all of the vital limbs were still attached and his heart was still beating, he was fine, as far as he was concerned. No way was he going to let Ben beat him at this. No way was he going to sit through that stupid documentary. Why had he even bought it for Ben?Because Ben hadbought him the Star Wars collection, that's why. And now Ben didn't even want to sit through that with him.

_Aren't we such thoughtful friends? _Riley mused wryly, pausing only for a moment.

He turned back to his screen, gazing fondly at the half-page he had written since Ben had retired upstairs. If only Ben had let him use the other pages he'd written. Oh well, no matter. Head start or no, Riley knew he'd win. Assuming Ben was as slow as he looked.

_Ben_

What was this supposed to be called? The first week slump? No, there was no such thing as a first week slump. That was in the second week. Right?

Then what was he having?

One sentence. Only one sentence glared at him from the screen, and it could hardly even be called a proper sentence. More like a few lousy words strung together. It was only the second day, but that added up. He'd written only seven words so far. He was 1660 words behind.

Ben leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. He'd give up now, if not for the punishments that would await him later. Mainly Riley. That kid was a punishment in himself. And then there was the Star Wars marathon. Even if he had to type the same sentence—the same _word_, even—50,000 times, he would do but the six movie, twelve hour marathon.

Suddenly, an idea flared to life in Ben's brain. Why not just type the same sentence 50,000 times? He had a sentence already; all he'd have to do would be to copy and paste, over and over again. Seven words...he'd have to re-use the sentence a total of 7142.85 times. Ben hesitated for only a moment.

He highlighted the string of words, found the button on thetoolbar that said "Copy," then visited the toolbar again and clicked "Paste." Now he had a total of fourteen words. Well, it was more than he had hadbefore, and it only took a few seconds to locate the "Paste" option on the toolbar. It was worth it. Much less work than sitting through a Star Wars marathon.

_Riley_

Things were going well. Two pages and counting.

_Ben_

An hour later, Ben's word count had reached an ultimate high—630. His eyes were hurting and his hand was sore from clicking, but he reasoned that these were the kind of pains that one had to take to achieve AugNoWriMo. Sure, most people would have touched the keyboard at least once to earn their word count, but he wasn't like most people. He was a treasure hunter, not a creative writer.

"What are you doing?"

Ben nearly fell sideways out of his chair at the sound of Riley's voice. He fumbled with the computer for a moment before he was able to slam it closed. He spun around in his swivel chair, just managing to catch Riley's wince. Yeah, yeah. That probably wasn't the right way to treat a computer.

"Writing!" The reply came out a little too hasty. "Nothing! What are you doing?"

Riley looked at him as if he'd just sprouted feelers."Writing? I haven't heard your keyboard."

"I haven't...heard your keyboard either," Ben said. Why was he so out of breath?

"That's because I've been standing outside the door for fifteen minutes," Riley replied.

Ben felt like reaching for his head, just to be sure that feelers really weren't up there.

Did he really look that odd to Riley?

"Well..." Ben cleared his throat, trying to assume the matter-of-fact pose that so often impressed Riley. "You see, I have been...practicing my light touch."

Riley looked dubious. "Do you really want me to crack a 'That's-what-she-said' joke right now?" Ben had no idea what he was talking about, but Riley continued before he could ask. "I know you haven't been writing."

Words were forming on Ben's lips when Riley reached over his shoulder, flipped his laptop open, and pushed his glasses higher on his nose. His face deepened into a frown as he took in Ben's word document.

"I don't know if I should be angry or scared," Riley said. "Have you been clicking on the toolbar every time you want to paste in the sentence?"

"Yeah," Ben replied indignantly.

Riley compressed his lips into a sad smile. "I don't know how I should tell you this, Ben, but..." Reaching over to the laptop, Riley pressed two keys—the Apple and the V. The sentence appeared again. "Ever heard of keyboard shortcuts?"

Ben was still gaping when Riley backed out of the room. "And you can't use any of those copied sentences in your word count, either!" the techie added over his shoulder.

**And now, the sneak peak: the next chapter will finally involve coffee.**

**Oh yeah, and I keep forgetting to mention: I have a poll on my user page, so it would be cool to hear your opinions. It's about what kind of story I'll write next.**


	3. Coffee

**Thank you for all of the reviews! I really appreciate them, knowing that people are reading my work. It's like a dream come true, seeing all of the story alerts and people all over the place reading what I have to say. It's one of the biggest honors for me, to know that people are listening to my words. So, thank you. I'm truly grateful.**

**Now, enough of all that mushy stuff. One more thank you goes out to Califaction!**

**Disclaimer: I've said it before.**

Ben yawned. Sunlight streamed through his window, indicating a nice day ahead. He smiled to himself, stretching.

Then he remembered AugNo, and his smile fell.

Now weary all over again, he stepped out of bed and trudged downstairs to the kitchen to get some breakfast before beginning his day of writing again. It generally took him a good three hours to get ready these August months; procrastinating was a long and tedious activity every morning.

He hadn't seen Riley in a few days, which was odd. Usually the techie was there in the living room the crack of dawn, sipping coffee and typing away on his laptop. His word count had surpassed Ben's long ago, even though Ben had been working methodically and diligently at his growing novel. The once blank word document was filling up faster than he would have expected it to, and it was always a gratifying feeling when he saw the pages and the words adding up.

However, five days was a bit long to be without the techie's constant presence. His mouth still wide open in a yawn, Ben picked up the phone and dialed Riley's number.

"'lo?" Came the bleary voice from the other end.

"Riley?" Ben said. The kid sounded tired, there was no doubt about that.

"Yeah," came the short reply.

"You okay?"

"Fine."

"Tired?"

"Mmm."

"I'll take that as a yes."

"You do that."

Ben frowned. "Are you sure you're alright?" There was silence at the other end. "Riley?"

"Hm?"

"I'm coming over."

Ben heard Riley's protests coming from the phone as he took it from his ear to hang up. Jogging upstairs again, he got dressed and found his keys. He was on the road towards Riley's apartment in ten minutes.

As he approached Riley's apartment door, he rummaged in his pocket for the key. He always kept one in case of emergencies like this one. Riley was notorious for getting himself in trouble.

He let himself in, glancing around the dark room, looking for any telltale signs of the techie's presence. Riley wasn't on the couch, one of his favorite places to be, so Ben moved to the door that led to Riley's bedroom. He knocked lightly and, hearing no answer, cautiously opened the door. The cramped room was dark as well, the only light coming from the glowing laptop screen on the bed. Riley was sitting on the bed in front of it, his eyes wide and glued to the screen. His fingers weren't moving, but they were resting on top of the keyboard, poised as if they wereabout to start typing again.

Ben frowned when he saw his friend frozen on the bed, but he soon saw the cause of it all: empty coffee cups were strewn all throughout the room. Apparently coffee came from all places for Riley: it looked as if he'd used up all of his mugs, and had since taken to raiding the nearby Starbucks. A cup of it was sitting on the bed next to his laptop now, just beside his waiting fingers.

"Riley?" Ben said hesitantly. Riley looked up for the first time, his eyes glazed and bloodshot.

"Ben?" he said. "What're you doin' here?" His words were slurred. Probably not a good sign.

"How long have you gone without sleep, Riley?" Ben said, feeling the lines of concern growing on his forehead.

"Dunno," Riley replied. "Few days. Caffeine helps."

And he fell face-first onto his laptop keyboard.

Ben lurched forward and helped Riley sit straight again. Riley was laughing to himself, pointing at the screen.

"Words!" he was saying. "I made words!"

Ben took a sidelong glance at the screen. Riley had fallen on the keyboard, creating a rather magnificent end to the sentence:

_When we finally made it back to sdkljfi aackgjea gdkagj._

"Three words," Ben said, adopting the mocking, 'I'm-talking-to-a-complete-idiot' voice he sometimes used around Riley. "That's real great, Ri."

"I made…I made…" Riley said, but he was interrupted by a huge yawn. Instinctively he reached for the coffee cup that had miraculously remained standing. Ben stopped his hand midway.

"No more coffee for you," he scolded. "You need to go to sleep. Even during August you need your rest."

"Coffee solves…all problems…" Riley said, groping for the coffee cup again.

"You've been having _way_ too much coffee. You need to go into coffee rehab."

Ben closed the laptop, despite Riley's muted protests, and helped the techie lay down. The computer geek began muttering something about caffeine poisoning and how it was all a myth, but his words were so muddled by thenthat Ben could only catch bits and pieces of what he was saying. Ben turned his back to pick up a stray coffee cupthat he had stepped on, and by the time he had turned around again, Riley was snoring from the bed.

With a self-satisfied grin, Ben took the half-empty cup of coffee from the bed to the kitchen sink and dumped it down the drain. He scoured the kitchen for any signs of coffee that Riley might be able to steal, but he found none. Now, to keep Riley from going to Starbucks…that would be more of a problem, but it was manageable. Ben snagged the Ferrari keys from the coffee table on his way to the door, the smug grin still on his face. He was just leaving when he remembered one more thing.

It wasn't really necessary, but he figured that it would be best for Riley to have a little break. Ben was only there to look out for the techie, after all.

Ben grabbed the laptop from Riley's bedside table, and, with a smirk, departed from the scene of the crime.

**My favorite chapter yet. The ending just worked out **_**too**_** perfectly. Heh. It was really fun to write, and I'm really happy with it. So…the next chapter will kind of be the aftermath of all of this. Until then, I love all of your feedback. It really gets me in the mood to write. And if I could just figure out how to respond to reviews…grr. I'll find out how to do it if it's the last thing to do. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, in the meantime!**

**-Penn**


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